


Letting My Mind Wander

by NakedOwlMan



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-26 00:02:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14389872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NakedOwlMan/pseuds/NakedOwlMan
Summary: Mary spots the handsome stranger in the coffee shop, and finds her imagination running away with her.





	Letting My Mind Wander

I'm sitting by myself, as usual, at a table in my local coffee shop, when he walks in.

The latte macchiato almost catches in my throat, and I cough slightly as I recover my breath at the sight of him.

Warm blond hair down to the collar of his black silk shirt. The lightest trace of stubble on his cheeks and chin. And his eyes... even at a distance, I can see those clear blue eyes.

I'm not the only one who notices. Out of the corner of my eye I can see several other women suddenly have their attention drawn to the back of the coffee shop line. I even catch a glimpse of one woman licking her lips at the sight of the stunning new arrival.

If he notices our stares, however, he doesn't make it obvious. He stands with a casual posture as he waits his turn. Not the kind of guy who knows that he's the center of attention whenever he walks into the room. Handsome without being cocky about it. 

Pretending to be looking at something on my phone, I keep stealing glances at him. His bare forearms show a nice amount of muscle, without being too overly built. The body of a professional swimmer, rather than a weight lifter.

In my mind, I imagine running into him on the way out. He apologizes in the smooth tenor voice I imagine he would have, and just when we're about to part he leans in close to me.

"I saw you watching me in there," the fantasy version of him says in my head. I can almost feel the warmth of his breath as he whispers huskily to me. "What do you say we go back to my place and I spend the rest of the afternoon making love to you?"

The dream version of me is shocked, of course. Such a bold suggestion from a man I don't even know! But the dream version of me is also a lot more confident than the real version of me. This fantasy Mary isn't nervous around handsome men the way the real one is. Doesn't stammer and forget how words work when she finds a guy attractive. So while the real version of me sneaks glances at him advancing in the coffee shop line, the fantasy version smiles, plants a light kiss on those beautiful lips of his, and tells him, "Lead the way."

A few minutes later, and things have progressed well in the real world and the fantasy one. In the real world, he's one spot away from the head of the line. In my fantasy, he and I are back at his place. Turns out my fantasy version of him has a pretty nice apartment. Not the kind of place a rich person would live, but a comfortable spot in a better part of town. Then again, I don't really care how much money this guy has. All I care about is one thing from him.

He sits down in a nearby armchair, watching me expectantly. "Strip for me," the fantasy man says, in a beautiful British accent.   
Wait, British accent? When did he get one of those? Well, anyway, it's my fantasy, so British accent it is. 

I slowly slip my blouse over my head, dangling it with a crooked smile from one hand before dropping it to the carpet of this stranger's living room floor. We didn't even know each other's names, and yet here I was unbuttoning my skirt and letting it slide down my legs to pool around my ankles. Leaving me standing in the most daring set of black lace bra and panties in my wardrobe. And not the actual white cotton bra and granny panties that were the last clean set of underwear I had to wear this morning. My fantasy version of me, I decide, is much more diligent about going to the laundromat than the real me is.

While the real man places his order at the counter, my fantasy version of him eyes my nearly-naked body with unrestrained lust. "You are so beautiful," he says, in that thick Spanish accent of his. Yes, I changed my mind. Spanish now. "From the second I saw you, I knew that I must have you."

I could feel my pulse race, both in the fantasy and reality, as he moves in closer to me. In reality, to a nearby table to sit and sip at his coffee. In my fantasy, to move in close and wrap me in those toned arms of his. I feel him reach around behind my back to unhook my bra, and gasp as it falls to the floor to join the rest of my clothes.

The next thing I know, we're in the bedroom. I fall back onto his designer sheets and watch as he strips off his shirt. My god, the body on my fantasy version of this man. And the hungry look on his eyes as he kneels down at the foot of the bed. Reaching for the waistband of my panties and pulling them slowly down my thighs. Looking at him with a hungry willingness, my fantasy version of me spreads myself wide. God, I met this man less than a half hour ago, and already I was naked and panting on his bed. The real version of me would have died of embarrassment at least five times before even reaching this point.

But not the fantasy me. The fantasy me only anxiously nibbles at my pinky, as I watch him move down between my legs. Planting light kisses on the inside of my thighs, before using his fingers to spread me wide open and brushing the tip of his tongue against my...

"Excuse me?"

"What?" I jolt and cry out, snapped out of my fantasy by an unexpected voice behind me. Several people in the coffee shop glance up at my sudden exclamation, including my fantasy man. Face beet-red, I turn to see a startled-looking gentleman in his mid-60s.

"Uh... is this seat taken?" he asks, pointing toward the chair across from me.

"Yes, yes," I immediately lie, doing my best to be quiet and lose my sudden, unwanted attention. "Sorry."

As the man walks off, I wait for a few moments, making sure that all of the customers in the room have turned their attention away from me.

And then, I'm back in my fantasy man's bedroom. My fingers stroke through his lustrous blond hair as he lovingly laps at my folds. The tip of his tongue dances playfully against my clit, and I gasp as I feel the warmth of his breath between my legs. I can feel my head swimming as his diligent oral attentions leave me right on the brink of beautiful release.

"Please," I moan to him. "I need you now. I need you inside me."

"As you wish, my dear," he responds. British accent back now. The Spanish accent sounded stupid, never mind. Slowly, he makes his way on top of me, and I can feel his weight pressing down on me as he moves to kiss me again. As our lips move together hungrily, I reach down between our bodies to find his belt and yank it open. I moan into the press of his lips as my hands find their way underneath his waistband. Finding the object of my search, I run my hands lovingly against the thick hard length contained inside my fantasy man's pants.

By this point, my fantasy version of myself is getting sick of all of this foreplay. Rather than taking the time to imagine him standing up to remove the rest of his clothes, I've decided that his pants are just gone now. Probably should have just had him take them off before eating me out. Sex fantasy retcon, sounds like a plan.

As the real version of the man sits and finishes his coffee, unaware of what my dream version of him is up to, I gasp in my mind as I feel the thick head of his manhood starting to enter me. "Yes," I moan to him, staring into his eyes with unimaginable levels of carnal need. Well, imaginable I suppose, considering that's what I'm doing right now. Whatever, the point is I'm giving him the sexiest look I can as I wrap my legs around him. Holding him in place and giving him no option but to penetrate me completely.

An option that the fantasy version of him happily takes.

"Mmm," I moan in erotic delight, wrapping my hands around the back of his neck and staring deeply into his eyes as he begins to thrust into me. "Tell me how sexy I am."

"You're so sexy," the fantasy man breathily responds. "You're the sexiest woman I've ever seen in my life."

"Tell me..." I start to say, before letting out a shuddering gasp as his fantasy cock steadily rubs against my inner walls. "Tell me how much you love fucking me."

"I love it so goddamn much," he grunted back, sweat dripping from his gorgeous frame as he put all of his effort into pleasing me. "I love being inside you. Love the feeling of you around my cock."

I smile at him in my fantasy, reveling in my total mastery of the entire scenario. So many times in my life, I've felt that I've had no control of my life. Felt like I didn't have the confidence or courage to take command, to do things the way I wanted to do them. But right here, in this fantasy... I'm the one in charge.

"Ask me to cum," I whisper to him. "Ask for my permission to cum."

Already I see the frustration on his face, as my control over this fantasy keeps him on the brink of climax. "Please," he begs me, desperation on his face as he thrusts his hips against me. "Please let me cum."

I take one last moment to revel in his submission. In his total surrender to my desires. Then I lean up and whisper in his ear. "Cum for me."

And on command, his body tenses up. I let out a long, heated breath as I feel the warmth of his seed filling me and...

"Hey."

I blink. What? He's looking at me. The real version of him is... he's looking over at me.

Oh, my God! Was I staring at him all this time? I've been so lost in my fantasy that I didn't even notice. I could feel the blush coming to my cheeks as he watches me from his table, his hand raised in a friendly wave. 

Ohmigod, what do I do? What do I say? Think of something, Mary! He's waiting for you to say something. Do I say "hey" back? Or maybe "Hey, yourself?" "Hi, there, gorgeous?" Shit, shit, you look like an idiot! Say something, already!

And just as I raise my hand to wave back, I see motion out of the corner of my eye. From around my table walks a pretty looking woman with brunette hair. "Hey, baby," she says, walking up to my fantasy man and leaning down to give him a peck on the lips. "Sorry I'm late! So much traffic out there!"

"No problem, hon," the man says, in a high voice with no trace of any accent. 

"Daddy, daddy!" comes the call from behind me. A young boy, probably around five or six, runs up and hugs the man around the waist. "Can we go to the playground today?"

Grinning, the man stands up and takes his son by the hand. "You betcha, champ!" he says. "Come on, hon. Need to fit in a stop at the market too before we go home."

As the happy family walks out of the coffee shop, my fantasy man waves goodbye, before fading totally away.


End file.
